


the darkest side of the moon

by seventeensteps



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Blindness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventeensteps/pseuds/seventeensteps
Summary: maybe Chirrut wasn't born blind





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [ttnandtee](https://twitter.com/ttnandtee)'s heartbreaking [fanart](https://twitter.com/ttnandtee/status/813017275410153474) of Baze and Chirrut. Her work is amazing guys, go check it out.

Baze had learnt that the most dangerous thing in life was relief. The silent moment after a battle where you let comfort overcome you. You let your guard down and that was the moment that did it. Bodies on the floor, still and lifeless. Chirrut was standing among them, smiling at him as he approached. He was leaning on his stick- his weapon, and the corners of his mouth said it all, 'The Force guided my eyes and directed my hands,' just like many times before, so Baze, relaxing his grip on his customized blaster, just rolled his eyes at him, meaning, 'My blaster guided them to the ground, too.' This was the moment where Chirrut laughed, and Baze put his arm around his shoulder, and then they walked back to the Temple amongst the sand and stardust.

Except he didn't.

Except one of the mercenaries was still alive and he hooked the stick Chirrut was leaning on away.

Except Chirrut lost his balance and fell to the ground and before Baze could kill him the masked man threw something at Chirrut's eyes.

Instead of his laugh, a scream pierced the air. Baze darted to Chirrut, and pulled the trigger again, and again, and again, to make sure the merc and the bodies littering the ground now stayed that way. When he reached Chirrut, the man was crouching and trying to suppress his sobs. Baze immediately knelt beside him, but he couldn't see his face because Chirrut's hands were in the way. A thin trickle of blood was seeping through his fingers, dripping slowly to the sand beneath them, small dot of dark red against pale brown.

His heart sped up, expanded, filling his chest and throat. He didn't touch Chirrut's face, or try to peer his fingers away.  _What happened? What is it? Is it bad? Please tell me._ "Chirrut." His voice sounded unfamiliar. "Chirrut?"

"B- Baze. I-" Slowly, Chirrut took his hands away. They were red. His head still bent forward, facing the blood seeping into the sand. "It was hot," he told Baze, "but now it's all right." Baze hunched his shoulder futhur, trying to look at Chirrut's face, searching for the damage. The lower part of his forhead and the skin around his eyes were of a shade of angry red. They looked burned, but nothing worse than being outside in the sun for far too long. Blood dripped down from his shut eyes. Chirrut lifted his head up, his hand hovered in the air in front of him. Baze could see the minute movement underneath his eyelids, and realized that Chirrut was trying to open his eyes. More blood trickled down and Chirrut let out a quiet whimper.

Baze reached out and held his hand. His felt Jedha in his throat.

Chirrut tightened his grip, his lashes clumped together, fluttering. He opened his eyes, but couldn't keep them open for long. He was still, and Baze thought it was because they hurt too much. There was blood, a thin sheen over his eyes. After a couple seconds, Chirrut turned his head a bit to the side, eyes open, and paused. "Baze?" He sounded so uncertain. Chirrut had never did that with his name.

"I'm here," Baze said, quickly, voice too soft, inaudible. He tried again, louder, "I'm here." Chirrut turned sharply toward him, or rather, his voice. _Thump, thump, thump, thump._ His heartbeat was rapid. Baze felt nauseous. His eyes burned, filling with liquid, making the image of Chirrut in front of him distorted and blurry, but with different reasons.

"Baze," Chirrut called him, hesitantly grabbing at his clothes. He might have smiled, but Baze was not certain. "Baze," he called again. Baze couldn't reply, so he put his arms around Chirrut, and pulled him closer, carefully. "Baze, listen," warm breath touched his ear, "I'm okay. It is okay." Gentle arms encompassed him.

Baze hadn't realized he himself was shaking.

"It's going to be okay."

 


End file.
